Just Another Day
by Nyx Myst
Summary: Voldemort hates New Year’s Eve. It being his birthday, or rather the birthday of Tom Marvolo Riddle, means nothing to him. Anyone who tries to celebrate the day better have their Will up-to-date. Warning: SLASH – HP/LV – Minor Bondage


**Summary:** Lord Voldemort hates New Year's Eve. It being his birthday, or rather the birthday of Tom Marvolo Riddle, means nothing to him. Anyone who tries to celebrate the day with gifts had best have their Will up-to-date. They'll need it. **WARNING:** Minor Bondage

I wrote it therefore it must be SLASH (male/male) – HP/LV

**Disclaimer:** The characters in this story do not belong to me. They are the property of J.K. Rowling and lots of other rich people.

**Author Note:** I don't have a beta reader or Brit picker, so you've been warned. Please let me know if there are any glaring mistakes that need to be fixed. =)

I couldn't let the Dark Lord's birthday pass without a little story so here it is. Yes, LV is OOC. This is a little fluffy, but my sister said I owed it to her after how sad King's Crossroad Station was. LOL.

Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoy it and please review if you have time. =)

Nyx Myst

* * *

**Just Another Day**

When Lord Voldemort woke up he knew it was going to be a horrible day. December thirty-first meant nothing to him. It was nothing more than the death of one year and the eve of the next. That it was the day a wizard known as Tom Marvolo Riddle had been born meant even less to him.

Yes, Tom Marvolo Riddle was a great wizard, but with a past he found distasteful. Tom Marvolo Riddle was a half-blood, the son of a magical person and a Muggle, something that he'd outlawed the moment he'd taken control of the wizarding world. Tom Marvolo Riddle's mother, the witch in the union, was a weak-minded, love-struck fool, too pathetic to even fight for life for the sake of her newborn son. Tom Marvolo Riddle's father was the most despicable of Muggles, one who held the treachery of a mother against his child and deserved his death many times over for that crime. Tom Marvolo Riddle was an orphan, one who was hated by other children and was blamed for everything that went wrong in the orphanage, even on the rare occasions when he had nothing to do with it. There was no reason at all for him to celebrate the birth of the wizard, Tom Marvolo Riddle, and anyone who tried to force the issue had best have their Last Will and Testament up-to-date. They'd need it.

No, there was no reason at all for him to be overjoyed at the date, particularly since the day had already started off on the wrong foot. Generally, he awoke each morning to Harry Potter, his messy haired lover and former nemesis, beside him. Each morning the sleep-warmed body of The-Boy-Who-Lived was either pressed against his side or his arm across Harry's waist, his chest against Harry's back. Today, Harry's side of the bed was empty and already chilled leaving no possibility for his day to begin in the most pleasant of ways. Today was simply not going to be a good day.

Already in a less than stellar mood, he showered and dressed and made his way downstairs. The corridor was empty, but he heard the excited chattering of those in the dining room. He pulled Bellatrix, Narcissa, and Lucius' voices first, those being the loudest. There were other voices as well. One that he didn't hear that he could pick out of any crowded room, however, was Harry's. Frowning even more, he made his way to the dining room. He wasn't a step inside before every Death Eater in the room stood up.

"Good morning, my Lord. Happy-"

"The first person to say the words 'Happy Birthday' shall meet their Death Day," he said sternly shutting up everyone in an instant. Everyone except Harry, that is, who wasn't even in the room. A pop beside him and more than one person sucked in a hard breath.

"Happy birthday, Mas-" Neither the house elf nor the cake the elf was holding survived the half-finished sentence.

"My Lord-"

"Today is simply another day and there is work that needs to be done. Now sit down," he said through clenched teeth. Knowing that tone, all eight Death Eaters in the room took their seats without another word. He took his place at the head of the table, his day growing worse by the second as his lover wasn't even beside him for breakfast. "Where is Harry?" he asked angrily.

"He left twenty minutes ago, my Lord," Lucius said nervously. "He said he had an early meeting and left taking Severus and Draco as his guards."

He snorted at that. Yes, he could imagine what sort of meeting Harry had first thing in the morning that his lover took his two best friends with him rather than his normal Death Eater guards. If anyone knew his feelings on this particular day of the year it was his lover.

"Very well," he said. "Morning reports."

Each of the Death Eaters gave their report while breakfast was served and eaten. Immediately afterwards, he retreated to his office advising that he was not to be disturbed. He'd barely closed and locked the door behind him when he gritted his teeth at the stack of wrapped gifts on the coffee table in the room. The only thing that kept him from exploding the entire stack rather than simply banishing them to his bedroom was the possibility that one or more of the gifts wouldn't react well to a blasting curse.

His office clean of the gifts, he walked over to his desk and sat down ready to start his day now that the birthday nonsense had been taken care of. He raised an eyebrow as soon as he did at the note waiting for him.

_Morning, _

_Sorry for leaving so quickly this morning, but it couldn't be helped. I have a meeting with the idiots in the Hall of Records at nine, another with Greyback about the changes in werewolf policy at eleven, lunch with the administrators at St. Mungo's for that grant they're requesting for the Potions Research Department (I took Severus with me to make sure they didn't exaggerate anything), and then a two o'clock with the Department for Muggle-borns (yes, I know you don't care about that one). I'll check in on your projects after that and be home as soon as I can. See you tonight. _

_Love, Harry_

Though he was sure Harry had packed his day full of meetings in an act of self-preservation knowing full well his feelings on this day, at least his lover was making well use of the time. Blindly picking up a quill to send his lover a note saying as much, he stopped seeing the red-orange feather in his hand. He looked around his desk and his regular black ostrich quill was nowhere in sight. Frowning, he nearly incinerated the quill, but stopped at the last moment. Harry had replaced the quill, of that much he was certain, but why?

He chuckled when the two-fold answer came to him. Firstly, of course, was the sentimental and purely 'Harry' reason that both their wands contained the same type of feather at their cores. The second reason, however, made him grin widely.

The phoenix was the symbol of the Order of the Phoenix; the long defunct group of witches and wizards Albus Dumbledore had assembled in an effort to prevent his rise to power. All those years ago, Dumbledore's plans had revolved around Harry eventually killing him. The old man hadn't counted on him turning Harry's loyalty away from that plan and towards him.

It had taken careful planning, but eventually Dumbledore had been pushed from Hogwarts the year after his resurrection. With Severus at the castle to assist him, that Umbridge woman turning a blind eye to his visits there, and him revealing a good many of Dumbledore's secrets to Harry, by the end of the school year Harry's loyalty to Albus Dumbledore was gone. By the end of Harry's sixth year with Harry learning that Dumbledore ultimately planned for Harry to die as well because of the piece of his soul attached to Harry, Harry was his.

Those two years of work in turning Harry's loyalty to him was well worth it by the final battle between himself and Albus Dumbledore. The old man hadn't known what hit him until Harry had stepped up to his side with the old man lying face-first on the ground, the tip of Harry's wand still smoking from the blasting curse Harry aimed at the old man from behind. And with the glorious words, 'He's all yours' from Harry, Albus Dumbledore and the Order had fallen making way for his unobstructed rise to supremacy over the wizarding world.

That night Harry became his second-in-command and his lover. In all the years since, he'd never regretted giving Harry either position. As his second-in-command, Harry was more good-natured than he was and that nature had benefited him greatly in bringing people in line with his changes. As his lover, well, Harry lived up to that title very satisfyingly.

Staring at the quill in his hand, he smirked at it rather than wishing to turn it to ash knowing Harry hadn't left it there by mistake, but as a reminder of his victory over Albus Dumbledore. Pulling a fresh piece of parchment from his drawer, he penned a note back to his lover, his smirk shifting to a small smile as he did.

* * *

After a morning spent quietly working in his office, he stopped for lunch at the arrival of a house elf. He raised an eyebrow at the meal of clam chowder, cucumber salad, and a filet of salmon, all three being some of his favorite foods.

"Master Harry is ordering Jeppy to be bringing Master his lunch at one o'clock before Master Harry is leaving this morning," the elf said quietly, nervously.

"Did he now?" he replied and the elf nodded. "Place it on the coffee table and get out."

"Yes, Master," Jeppy replied, quickly deposited the tray on the coffee table, and popped out of the office.

Leaving his desk, he walked over to the sofa and sat down. First the quill and now a selection of his favorite foods for lunch. For not being there and knowing his feelings about the day, his lover certainly seemed to be slipping things in to push the significance of the date. Then again, perhaps it was just a coincidence. He had mentioned a few days ago that he would enjoy some seafood. He rarely had to mention anything he wanted more than once for Harry to find a way to get it for him. His lunch could be nothing more than that, especially since Harry didn't care much for seafood.

He'd barely picked up his bowl of soup before another house elf arrived, this one with a magazine and another note from Harry. The magazine was set to the side along with his bowl in favor of the letter.

_Afternoon Love, _

_Hope your day is going better than mine. When the request comes in to hire a new person for the Hall of Records, yeah, that'll be my fault._

He laughed softly at that thinking yet again that was why he left Harry to handle those idiots. Were it him that was forced to deal with the monthly meetings there the office would need to be completely re-staffed each month.

_Anyway, enjoy your lunch because I went through Hell having fresh seafood shipped to the kitchen for you. You're not kissing me until you brush your teeth because that shit is disgusting._

He sniggered again shaking his head. The brat just didn't know good food when it was staring him in the face.

_My meeting with Greyback ran over so now I'm running behind on everything. Hopefully I'm finished by dinner, but either way I'll be home as soon as I can. And I swear I am NOT getting up early for stupid meetings again. The day just isn't the same without my morning kiss._

_Love, Harry_

_P.S. Could you please put the magazine to the side for me? I want the picture on the cover. Thanks. _

Setting the letter to the side, he picked up the magazine and looked at the cover. Actually, it was a very handsome picture of him. While still pasty white with red eyes, his features had slowly returned over the years. He had a full head of hair now and his nose had regrown to the size it was before he'd started creating Horcruxes. His eyes were more oval as well, and he even had eyebrows again. A hybrid between his completely human and snake-looking selves, for once he didn't mind that Harry wanted to keep a photo of him that showed, at least a little, who he'd once been.

The headline on the magazine, 'Still A Monster or The Greatest Leader in Wizarding History?' made him open to the center article, rest the magazine on his lap, and pick up his bowl of soup again. As he consumed his delicious lunch, he read the article taking it all in.

The article began with a detailing of his past deeds. He was ready to find the reporter who wrote the story and show the woman first hand some of those past deeds when the article switched to how his changes in laws and policies had benefited the wizarding world. And when the article finished with the reporter lavishing him with praise for the unprecedented economic boom the wizarding world was currently experiencing, he considered giving her an exclusive interview.

Considerably pleased by the article by the time he'd finished his lunch, he took the magazine to his desk and called for a house elf to frame it. The framed magazine went on the wall behind his desk. Harry could get another one, but then he knew Harry hadn't really sent him the magazine just for the cover photo. No, his lover sent it as a clear message that the wizarding world was his and fewer and fewer people were against his rule. And with tomorrow starting a new year, if meant that the next year would be better than the last. A wonderful lunch with a glowing article behind him, he returned to his work wondering when Harry would be home.

* * *

By six o'clock, he was furious again. Not ten minutes before he'd taken a firecall from Harry regarding a problem in the Department of Mysteries with one of the projects he was working on. He considered going there himself, but he knew that people would die for their incompetence if he did and he actually needed those individuals who still held the title of Unspeakable. After a twenty-minute conversation with Harry detailing how to correct the error, he left the task in Harry's more than capable hands. If he trusted anyone to do the job right, it was Harry.

Standing in the bedroom, he called Jeppy to run him a hot bath. It had been Harry's suggestion as a way to calm him down. Had anyone other than Harry suggested it they would have met their maker, but his lover had the ability like no other to calm his temper. Though that worked both ways, him having been so furious left little doubt in his mind that someone, perhaps several someone's, in the Department of Mysteries would require medical attention before the night was over. If there was one thing Harry loathed it was anyone or anything that upset him.

"Would Master be liking Jeppy to turn on the wireless? Master Harry is telling Jeppy to be asking Master," Jeppy said wringing his hands from near the bathroom doorway after starting the tub tap.

"Yes, and then get out. Dinner in one hour," he snapped.

"Yes, Master," Jeppy squeaked, snapped his fingers, and was gone.

With a snort, he undressed leaving his clothing on the floor in the bedroom, went into the bathroom, and eased into the hot water of the tub. Only once submerged up to his neck did he close his eyes and let out a sigh of relief that he was alone again. Being left alone on his most hated day of the year, after an admittedly less unpleasant morning and afternoon than he thought he'd have, in a hot tub of water with his favorite symphony crooning from the wireless would do wonders to calm his agitated nerves.

Wait, his favorite symphony was playing on the wireless? The only station he ever listened to was WNN to be sure that the reported news of the day was what he wanted it to be. Why would the WNN be playing-Harry.

He frowned at his lover once again having a hand in trying to brighten his day. After finding the quill, he gave Harry the benefit of the doubt that his lover wasn't in any way trying to celebrate his birth-Tom Marvolo Riddle's birthday-with him from afar. Lunch had raised another eyebrow prior to the letter explaining that Harry had procured the meal for him because of his desire for seafood. The magazine he'd dismissed as simply Harry's sentimental side wanting the cover photo, regardless of the favorable article inside it. Now though, with the suggestion of the hot bath with the wireless going and the WNN just happening to choose today to broadcast his favorite symphony, he knew what Harry was up to.

He wanted to be furious, he really did. Harry knew better than anyone how much he abhorred any mention of the circumstances surrounding his birth. Harry knew how much he loathed any thoughts of birthdays as a child. Harry knew it all about him and still Harry had done all these things to commemorate his birthday. As if he wanted to remember any of that when they'd once been in the very tub he was in at that moment and he'd told Harry why he hated his birthday so much. And Harry had said-

_"I know how that is. My childhood wasn't much different. Still, after everything we've been through to get where we are now, a part of me is glad your father tossed your mother out and she died after having you. You wouldn't be who you are today if it weren't for them being piss poor parents."_

And there it was, the reason why Harry had suggested the bath. The gift of the quill had been a reminder of his victory over his greatest advisory. The lunch had been a reminder that while he'd had no one to make sure his needs were taken care of as a child, that Harry was there to make sure he was taken care of now. The magazine had been a reminder, too, that though the road getting there had been hard, that he'd gained his dream of ruling the wizarding world and more people claimed him as their Lord than just the Death Eaters. And now the bath, one to remind him that though his life of the past was rubbish he'd rather not remember, he wouldn't be Lord Voldemort if it weren't for Tom Marvolo Riddle.

As confirmation of that, when he left the bathroom to dress for dinner he found a familiar ring in his jewelry box. The cracked Resurrection Stone had been replaced by a new, high quality onyx with the Peverell crest etched into it. As for the pieces of the Resurrection Stone, they'd been smoothed and set into new cufflinks to match the ring. And with them was a simple white card with one sentence on it:

**_Past, Present, and Future: One Without The Others Means Nothing._**

He picked up the card and knew why 'Future' had been included in the sentence seeing twin white and yellow gold rings, diamonds on either side of center square emeralds. Emerald green, the color of his heritage as the Heir of Slytherin and Harry's as the son of Lily Evans-Potter.

"Jeppy," he called out.

"Yes, Master?" the elf asked, appearing instantly at his call.

"You assisted Harry in arranging everything today?" he asked running a finger along the twin rings. The elf didn't reply and he looked at it. Jeppy nodded pulling down his ears and he chuckled. "The rest of the night is yours to do as you wish."

"Master is not happy with Jeppy?" the elf asked, his eyes filling with tears.

"Your master is rewarding you for a day of exceptional service," he replied. The tears fell from the elf's eyes anyway, though in pride. "Has Harry anymore gifts for me today for my birthday?" he asked.

"Only one more, Master," Jeppy replied.

"And that is?" he asked.

"What Master is already having and shall always have: Master Harry himself," Jeppy replied with a wide smile.

He cracked a small one, too, inclined his head, and Jeppy bowed before popping away again. He just finished dressing for dinner before heading downstairs, the former Horcrux ring on his right hand and new cufflinks on his wrists. As for the twin rings he'd left behind upstairs, well, they'd be worn before the night was over, too.

* * *

He was standing in the sitting room with several associates from the Wizagamot when the floo came to life signaling Harry's return home. A few moments later, Severus and Draco appeared in succession behind his lover.

"Well?" he asked looking at his lover.

"The mistakes were rectified and the project is back on schedule per your orders, My Lord," Severus said inclining his head. He looked at Severus and then at Harry.

"You wouldn't have left me to do it if you didn't think I'd get it done," Harry sniggered, stepped up to him, and kissed him gently. "How was your day?" Harry asked pulling back.

"Incomplete," he replied and Harry looked at him confused. "Gentlemen, if you would," he said.

"What the-" Harry began, but didn't finish as the other wizards in the room pointed their wands at Harry, ran a cleaning charm over his lover, and changed Harry into fresh, black robes that matched the ones he was wearing. "Vol-"

He cut Harry off grabbing Harry's right arm in his right hand and saying the first line of an ancient incantation, one that joined life forces with no chance of reversing the charm. Harry sucked in a hard breath, but that didn't stop his lover's finger from clasping his arm and whispering the second line. They continued on from there alternating lines of the incantation and magic glowed around them more and more with each word spoken. At the end, he held up his left hand with one of the twin rings between his fingers. Harry immediately lifted his left hand for him to slide the ring into place.

"You are mine," he said emphatically. "Now and always."

One of the wizard's from the Wizagamot stepped forward and held out an open hand. With their arms still clasped together, Harry picked up the other ring from the man with his left hand and returned the favor to him.

"And you're mine, now and always," Harry replied, and when he cracked a wide grin, Harry did the same. The magic glowed even more brightly before fading. He yanked Harry to him, their mouths sealing together as soon as he did.

"Get out," he said and grabbed his lover by the hair.

He didn't wait to make sure they did before apparating him and Harry up to their bedroom. One word not even said aloud and they were both naked with him shoving Harry backwards onto the bed.

"Vol-"

He shut Harry up with another deep, hungry kiss. As always, Harry didn't deny him turning sideways and scooting up the bed before wrapping a hand around the side of his neck.

"You were gone all day," he said against Harry's mouth.

"Sorry, busy-bloody Hell," Harry began panting, but the last words were groaned with Harry tilting his head back as his already slick fingers went to work. While he always loved being a powerful wizard, at times like that he loved even more his ability at wandless, wordless magic.

"Mm, yes, so your messages detailed," he replied and moved his mouth lower to lick and suck on Harry's left nipple. "The magazine is mine."

"I can get-fuck," Harry said, as he tweaked that wonderful place inside his lover that turned Harry to mush.

"My thoughts exactly."

They said nothing else for a while, not even when magic bound Harry's wrist to the headboard so he could enjoy the rest of the night to his fill. Oh, and he enjoyed himself. He enjoyed every groan, moan, and whimper of pleasure his lover made as he feasted his way down Harry's body. And at Harry's groin, he pulled another sound from his lover that Harry rarely made in their bedroom: a scream of bliss as he swallowed Harry's prick down his throat. Fifteen minutes later at most, he swallowed Harry's seed with three of his fingers thrusting and twisting into his much-younger lover.

"Shit, are you trying to kill me?" Harry panted and he chuckled.

"Why would I attempt as much with our life forces now joined?" Harry's eyes shot open and his lover stared at him.

"Blood Hell, did we really just-"

"Become bonded?" he laughed lowly again. "Yes, and now to consummate our union."

Harry's whole body arched when he lifted one of Harry's legs and thrust inside. Harry wasn't the only one making sounds then, as more than once he groaned at repeatedly plunging as far inside his lover as he could manage. Breathing meant nothing to him at the tight heat of Harry's arse, and the thought that the day once meant nothing to him and now meant so much, spurred him on more.

He moved and Harry lifted his arse into his every thrust. When that wasn't enough their mouths met again, tongues thrashing together, the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh and panted breath echoing throughout the room. He knew when Harry grew close to his second orgasm when Harry stopped moving, stop kissing him, and tilted his head back again clenching his teeth. Ah, and he knew why Harry wouldn't voice anything either, what Harry tried to stop himself from shouting. For once, he wanted to hear it. He pushed both of Harry's knees to his lover's chest and thrust even harder. He finally got what he was after with a pointed, angled shove inside.

"Tom!"

It was amazing what that name did to him. For all his life he'd hated that name. When he'd learned everything about his father, he hated being named after the man with a passion. He hated that Dumbledore insisted on calling him by that name. He killed anyone who he found out even uttered his true given name. And after so many years, more than three-quarters of a century, there was finally one person who could call him that name and he would allow it. At least he would in private because his given name in that needy tone from Harry made him explode in a way far different than in rage.

In the aftermath, he vaguely heard Harry whisper the spell to unbind his arms from the headboard. A moment later, Harry's arms were around him as he panted into the side of Harry's neck resting completely on top of the younger man.

"Damn you, Harry," he said through ragged breathing, "you made me enjoy my birthday."

"Was that today?" Harry replied. He lifted his head and glared at Harry, but Harry just smiled wiping the beads of sweat from the side of his face. "It's not just another day, Tom, not anymore."

"No, not anymore," he replied.

**The End**


End file.
